


Your word is Butthead

by Lecrit



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Absolutely Zero Chill, Alec is a Little Shit, Alec's POV, And Sass, Competition, Extra Alec is best Alec, Fluff, I'll stop tagging now, Kid Fic, M/M, Magnus is a little shit, Making Out, Single Parents, Snark at First Sight, True love right there, a disgusting amount of fluff, and, and a big dose of competitiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 10:19:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12862467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lecrit/pseuds/Lecrit
Summary: Alec’s kid has a bad tendency of being overly competitive. Which is fine, really, because the apple never falls far from the tree, and Alec is definitely to blame for that.Or the one where Alec's and Magnus' sons compete against each other in a spelling bee contest and they're both overly competitive about who is the best.





	Your word is Butthead

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Italiano available: [LA TUA PAROLA E' "COGLIONE"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13799748) by [kate_kate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_kate/pseuds/kate_kate)



> Hey cupcakes,
> 
> Yesterday sucked big time so I wrote this last night because we all needed some fluff.  
> I hope it helps put a smile on your faces.  
> I have no idea what happened here but tbh, this is a complete mess and I'm very sorry.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
>    
> Ps: #lecrit to live-tweet but you can also use #buttheadfic because I'm a child and it makes me laugh.
> 
> Russian translation of this work can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14500737).

Alec’s kid has a bad tendency of being overly competitive. Which is fine, really, because the apple never falls far from the tree, and Alec is definitely to blame for that.

He never misses these kinds of school events, but he has to admit he arrives late more often than not because work barely allows him to leave on time to pick up Max from school on most days (thank God for Maia and her unlimited kindness and love for her godson) but this time, he is there ten minutes early. He probably broke a few speeding limits on his way there but if he gets a fine in the next couple of weeks, it would be worth it just to remember the look of excitement on Max’s face when Alec walks into the room and he all but runs to hug him, an elated grin on his youthful features.

There are already a lot of parents there, so Alec guides Max back to his seat and crouches in front of him.

“You got this, Monkey, okay?” he murmurs.

Max gives him a stern nod, straining his face to seem older than he actually is. “I’m gonna crush them,” he promises.

Alec’s eyes widen as he quickly looks over his shoulder to make sure no one heard his eight-year-old son very gravely announce that he is going to destroy his opponents in an elementary school spelling bee competition. He is incredibly proud, of course, but no one needs to know that.

“Of course you are,” he mutters as he turns back, pushing his son’s unruly hair (something else that seems to run in the family) away from his bright blue eyes. “But let’s not repeat everything Aunt Izzy says, alright?”

Max seems confused for a moment but he nods, and Alec drops a quick kiss on his forehead before stepping away, navigating through the crowd of parents and visitors to find a seat.

He finds one at the back of the room, which is perfect because that way he doesn’t have to socialize with the soccer moms and he can gloat internally when his son does crush all the other kids without being too obvious about it — or getting caught.

“Welcome to the Third Grade Annual Spelling Bee contest!” Principal Garroway announces cheerfully as he steps forward. “Thank you all for being here today. I’m glad to see so many parents were able to make it. This year, our two teams are Mrs. Clary Fray’s class and Mr. Simon Lewis’ class.”

There is a round of applause as they both rise from the first row, waving at the parents. Mr. Lewis winks at Max, giving him a thumbs up. Clearly, Mr. Lewis knows who his champion is and Alec can feel a proud smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as his son sends one back to his teacher, with a grave look on his face that means he is here to win and nothing else.

So Alec should probably teach him one of these days the virtue of competing just for the fun of it but that can wait until after he makes all the other kids bite the metaphorical dust.

They’re proceeding alphabetically by last name and Alec nods in approval because he likes when things are organized and methodical but he can’t help but squirm on his chair in anticipation as he watches the first kids go.

They’re just starting on the letter B when a door opens in his back and someone comes rushing in.

“So sorry,” the stranger says out loud when all the gazes turn to him, before taking the closest seat he can find, which is coincidentally the one right next to Alec.

He waves at a kid standing with the rest of Mrs. Fray’s class as he sits, heaving out a relieved breath. The kid waves back, his eyes widening in glee immediately, before he tightens his small fists, giving the man a look full of unbreakable determination.

“What did I miss?” the man breathes out, tilting his head towards Alec.

They’re still on the letter B, so Alec allows himself to be distracted and to turn his head to face him and… promptly loses the ability to speak. It’s a good thing he’s not the one whose spelling skills are being tested because he isn’t sure he could spell his own name right now.

He definitely can spell ‘holy fuck’, though, which is the best thing that comes to mind to describe the absolutely breathtaking stranger sitting at his side. His light brown skin is shining with glitter, all the way down to the open collar of his royal blue silk shirt, necklaces falling down his chest as if pointing the way for Alec’s eyes to wander. His triangular eyes are lined with dark eyeliner, highlighting the amber in them in a way that seems to prevent Alec from glancing away to peer down at the exposed skin of his chest, which isn’t odd at all because the man is looking right back, blinking expectantly at Alec.

Right. That’s probably because he asked him a question.

Alec clears his throat. “Not much,” he murmurs, gazing back at the makeshift stage. “Just the first three kids. They did alright, I guess,” he adds, trying to sound more enthusiastic about it than he truly feels. Really, the second one couldn’t even spell ‘crawl’. Amateur.

He seems to make a poor job of hiding it, though, because the man’s (very tempting) lips pull into a conniving smirk and he lifts an eyebrow.

“Rafael Bane,” Principal Garroway calls out, and Alec’s companion immediately straightens on his seat and turns away from him, his gaze jerking back as the kid he waved to earlier gets in front of the room, somewhat looking both bashful and determined all at once.

“Your word is” — Principal Garroway pauses for effect — “handsome.”

Alec’s neighbor scoffs dismissively. “Piece of cake,” he mutters under his breath.

The boy seems to think so too, because he straightens on his feet, squaring his shoulders and tilting his chin up.

“Handsome,” he repeats with a firm voice. “H-A-N-D-S-O-M-E. Handsome.”

“Nailed it,” the sparkly man mouths at the boy, winking, and the boy all but preens as Principal Garroway sends him back to his seat with a congratulation. Swirling back towards Alec, he sends him a wide smile, beaming with pride. “Speaking of handsome, I don’t think we’ve been formerly introduced. I’m Magnus Bane, Rafael’s dad.”

“A-Alec Lightwood,” he replies, shaking the outstretched hand, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “I’m Max’s dad,” he adds, pointing a finger at his son, who is watching his classmate unsurprisingly succeed at spelling ‘about’, as if that was a difficult word.

“Oh, he’s in Simon’s class, isn’t he?” Magnus asks.

Alec nods, and then things go downhill.

“Oh, I’m sure Little Max will be fine with second place, then,” he says, and he sounds almost apologetic. Except it’s not almost, he _definitely_ sounds apologetic.

“Excuse me?” Alec huffs out, trying to conceal his outrage and failing miserably.

“Well, our sons are on opposing teams,” Magnus eludes, as if that clears up the absolute insanity he just came up with. “And I don’t mean to brag but my son is definitely going to win this. He’s an _excellent_ speller.”

Alec makes a noise at the back of his throat that is pure and unabashed offense. “Excuse me?” he parrots, slightly louder this time. “ _My_ son is going to win this.”

Magnus snorts, seemingly unconvinced by Alec’s yet irrefutable argument. “I’m not saying your son isn’t brilliant,” he retorts, waving him off dismissively. His ring-clad hands are elegant, the nails painted a dark blue that matches his shirt and the tip of the strands of hair falling down on his forehead. “I’m just saying my son is the best.”

Alec crosses his arms over his chest. “Oh please,” he hisses. “Anyone can spell ‘handsome’. Max is going to crush him.”

Magnus narrows his eyes on him, poking his shoulder with a threatening finger. “Careful, Lightwood. I wouldn’t want you to feel too bad when my son pulverizes yours.”

“Can you spell that?” Alec retorts through gritted teeth, swatting his hand away.

Magnus purses his lips, looking all the more insulted now, and he opens his mouth to fire back but doesn’t get around to it.

Principal Garroway clears his throat loudly at the front of the room. “Mr. Bane, Mr. Lightwood,” he calls out, sounding decidedly similar to when he is scolding the kids for bickering. “Please?”

Their heads jerk back to the front in a same movement, and Alec blinks in stupor when he realizes everyone is staring at them. They were whispering though, right?

“Sorry,” they mumble together, crouching back in their seats.

“Thank you,” Principal Garroway says, shaking his head in something akin to amusement, before turning toward Mr. Lewis’ class. “Max Lightwood.”

Max bolts to his feet and rushes to the stage, standing proudly on his feet.

“Your word is ‘newspaper’.”

Max nods. “Newspaper,” he says firmly, without an ounce of hesitation. “N-E-W-S-P-A-P-E-R. Newspaper.”

Alec beams with pride, erupting into applause before he realizes that one, no one is applauding with him and two, no one applauded for the other kids. Well, it’s not his fault if everyone else in here doesn’t love their kids as much as he does. Max looks mildly embarrassed, but he’s bound to be embarrassed by his father sooner or later so they might as well start now.

Magnus sends him a mocking glance when Alec stuffs his hands back in his pockets awkwardly, to which Alec answers with a smug smirk, mouthing an exaggerated “crushing it” as he points at his son.

Magnus rolls his eyes, focusing back on the next kid. Alec recognizes the little boy immediately. His parents are both assholes and he would never call a kid an asshole but again… the apple never falls far from the tree. The kid — he thinks his name is Vincent or Victor or something equally quaint — is a bully and the reason why Alec got called to Principal Garroway’s office a month ago because his son decided to fight back — which was Izzy’s doing and definitely not Alec because he’s a great dad who obviously doesn’t teach his boy to hit other people when they poke fun at him for being raised by a single dad… of course not.

“Alright, Valentine,” Principal Garroway says. Alec was close enough. “Your word is ‘disappear’.”

The boy looks impossibly bored. “Disappear,” he grumbles. “D-I-S-A-P-E-E-R. Disappear.”

“You’re about to disappear, loser,” Magnus mutters under his breath, and Alec actually snorts, biting on his bottom lip to refrain from laughing.

Magnus throws him a look out the corner of his eyes, a smirk tipping the corner of his lips up.

It goes on like that for a while. The teams are equally good and the score is tied, although if Alec is quite honest, only Max and Rafael have made no mistake so far. They share some snarky comments under their breath, commenting on the performance — or lack of — of the kids. Alec would feel bad for dissing those kids, some of them who are actually trying so very hard, but this is actually more fun, and Magnus’ wit is only matched by his overall beauty and the smugness of his smirk and damn, Alec really wants to take him out and kiss him and also call him an asshole. This is all very confusing.

Soon enough, there are the only two kids left.

Magnus leans back in his chair, tilting his head to whisper at Alec, “Don’t worry about it, darling. When your son loses, I’ll give you my number so you still feel like you won something today.”

Alec scoffs, incredulous. “Oh, really?” he fires back. “Well, maybe I’ll take you out so I can tell you all about my son kicking your son’s butt.”

Are they still fighting? Alec has honestly no idea but his skin is on fire and he is somehow equally annoyed and thrilled at the prospect of going out on a date with Magnus.

He probably needs therapy at this point. Magnus is not good for his already off-the-charts competitiveness.

“Well, maybe I’ll take you out and then I’ll buy you a drink and kick _your_ butt at pool,” Magnus raises him, lifting a defiant eyebrow.

“Well, maybe I’ll take you out and then buy you a drink, kick your butt at pool _and_ walk you back home,” Alec counters. “That’s right. I’m gonna romance the shit out of you.”

Is that supposed to sound like a bad thing? He has no idea what is going on right now. He just knows that he likes it a lot, just as much as he likes the adrenaline running through his veins and the challenging quirks of Magnus’ eyebrows.

“Not if I romance the shit out of you first, butthead,” Magnus retorts, the last word coming just a bit louder.

There is a collective gasp coming from the stage and both their heads sweep around at the same time. Max and Rafael are standing next to each other, shaking their heads in despair.

“Sorry,” Magnus says, shifting on his seat. “I was just offering my companion here a word to spell.”

“Butthead,” Max and Rafael say in a same voice, their little faces scrunched up in both amusement and the same sense of competitiveness their fathers just displayed very publicly. “B-U-T-T-H-E-A-D. Butthead.”

Principal Garroway pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply. “Mr. Lightwood, Mr. Bane,” he says, disapproval edging every word. “How about you wait outside while we finish here?”

“But—” they try in unison.

“That wasn’t really a question,” Principal Garroway cuts in sternly. “I was just being polite.”

Alec is about to argue, but the look on the principal’s face is enough to send a shiver down his spine and he grimaces instead, cowering back into his seat.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” Max exclaims with a wide grin. He tries to send him a wink but ends up blinking instead and the whole thing is just so adorable Alec can’t help but smile — as does Magnus, because Alec’s son is just the cutest. “You can wait outside. I’m gonna crush them all.”

Rafael scoffs dramatically at his side. “Keep dreaming, Maxie.”

Alec groans as Magnus barks out a laugh, before grabbing his arm and pulling him out of his seat, leading him outside, apologizing again.

Alec is tempted to add a “yeah, sorry that our sons are pulverizing the competition with their spelling talents, losers” but he manages to refrain.

As soon as they are outside, Alec spins around to face Magnus, frowning.

“This is your fault!”

Magnus gasps, slamming a hand over his chest. “My fault? This is _your_ fault!” he fires back. “You’re the one who cursed in front of all these children!”

“You called me a butthead!” Alec protests, throwing his arms up in the air.

“Well, you’re the one who insisted on trying to outbid me on our date so you _were_ a butthead!”

Alec takes a step forward, fuming. “You take that back, Bane!”

“Or what, Alexander?” Magnus bites back, moving forward too. “You’re gonna kiss me to shut me up?”

“Maybe I will,” Alec grits out.

“Maybe I will first!”

Alec would argue that he is the one moving forward to kiss Magnus first, but the truth is they move at the same time and slam against each other, lips folding together. Magnus grips his waist to draw him closer and Alec crashes against his chest. It is scorching and frankly chaotic, until they tilt their heads slightly to the side and then it is just perfect. They fit together perfectly, and all the tension vanishes from Alec’s shoulders in a second as he reaches up to wrap Magnus’ face in his own hands.

This is insane. Izzy would be proud of him. Never in a million years would Alec have imagined that he’d be making out with an almost stranger after getting kicked out of his son’s spelling bee contest by the principal of the school because they were taking competitiveness to a whole new level.

What even is his life?

This is insane, and yet it feels utterly natural and equally groundbreaking. This is passion, and damn, Alec didn’t think he would ever feel this but well, here he is, pushed against a wall outside his son’s elementary school, kissing that beautiful, infuriating man, slipping a hand under the silk of his shirt to brush against the silk of his skin, swallowing Magnus’ tiny moan with his lips.

He doesn’t even know where he is anymore. All that matters is Magnus’ hand sliding in his hair and tugging lightly as he kisses him harder, and Alec’s whole body pulsing with that same passion that drove them to this point in the hour they have known each other.

He’s ready to sign up for the spelling bee contest himself if that’s what he gets of it every year.

Right. Spelling bee. Elementary school. Children. PG-13.

Alec pulls back, panting, and watches, mesmerized, as Magnus chases blindly after his lips for a microsecond before rolling back on his heels, his eyes fluttering open.

“So,” Alec whispers, his voice hoarse enough that he barely recognizes it as his own, “Friday night?”

Magnus smiles, a real beautiful grin that lights up his whole face and make his nose scrunch up adorably.

“Friday sounds good,” he replies, just as breathlessly. “I’m sorry I called you a butthead.”

“I’m sorry I called you an asshole in my head,” Alec says.

Magnus chuckles, his kiss-swollen lips shining as he does. “I called you much worse.”

The front doors of the school open with a clamor and Magnus takes a step back, clearing his throat and readjusting his shirt as he does, and Alec is distracted by his collarbone peeking out before he is quickly brought back to Earth by Rafael and Max who come running towards them, matching grins on their faces.

“Dad!” Max exclaims, just as Rafael calls, “Papa!”

“I can’t believe you got kicked out of school!” Rafael says, but he sounds amused more than anything else.

“And you said a bad word in front of everyone!” Max adds cheerfully.

“Sorry,” Alec and Magnus mumble together.

“It was _hilarious_ ,” Max insists. “Rafael’s dad called you a butthead!”

Alec rolls his eyes, snorting. “That he did,” he scoffs, throwing a pointed glare at Magnus, who looks utterly unapologetic. “Several times. And he should be ashamed of himself.”

“So, who won?” Magnus asks, promptly changing the subject, although the amused glimmer in his gaze is unmistakable.

“We both did!” Max blurts out.

“Yeah, we tied,” Rafael replies. “Principal Garroway said we got bonus points because we spelled ‘butthead’ together.”

Alec laughs, kneeling down in front of Max, who crashes against him, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“Well done, Monkey,” he chuckles, ruffling the boy’s hair before rising back to his feet, Max’s hand firmly tucked in his own. “And well done, Rafael.”

The boy preens with pride, and Alec thinks it wouldn’t have been too bad if his son had lost to him after all. But he didn’t. Because their sons are equally awesome.

“I’ll see you on Friday,” Magnus says as he holds out a business card for him.

What a day to be alive.

Alec nods, plucking it out of Magnus’ hand carefully. Their fingers brush together, sending a long, thrilling shiver down his spine.

And then, with one last playful wink, Magnus turns around, walking away with his son’s hand in his own. Alec decidedly doesn’t watch how his hips sway temptingly, or how his skinny jeans do wonders for his butt.

“What’s on Friday?” Max asks, tugging on Alec’s hand to drag him to the car.

Alec hesitates for a second only before a wide grin spreads on his lips.

“Rafael’s dad and I are having dinner together,” he says. “I’ll ask Aunt Maia to look after you.”

Max lifts a dubious eyebrow. “So you don’t think he’s a butthead?”

Alec shrugs, but couldn’t stop smiling even if he wanted to.

“Oh, I do,” he says playfully. “But he’s the good kind of butthead.”

Max hums pensively. “Valentine is a bad kind of butthead,” he says matter-of-factly. “And a loser. Rafael and I crushed him.”

Alec laughs again, loud and warm and carefree.

 

It is already late, and Max is long asleep when Magnus texts him back.

_Hey, butthead. Italian sounds good. Brace yourself because I’m ready to romance the shit out of you too._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@lecrit](http://lecrit.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [@_L_ecrit](https://twitter.com/_L_ecrit).
> 
> Never forget that you're beautiful and important.
> 
> All the love,  
> Lu. ❤


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